The Size Of Our Love
by She's a Star
Summary: What if Christian had been shot on the opening night of Spectacular Spectacular? A brokenhearted Satine hopes for the survival of her penniless poet.


The Size of Our Love

****

by _She's a Star_

Summary: What if Christian had been shot on the opening night of Spectacular Spectacular?? 

Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to the wonderfully excellent (*hehe* Twixxa! That's your new nickname, BTW. :D) Bazzie, and 'The Size of Our Love' belongs to um...I forgot. But not me.

A/N: Norah (Black Tangled Heart...read her stuff if you haven't already) sent me the lyrics to this song and asked me to do a fic, so....voila! Also, I have no idea if they had hospitals in 1899...I'm leaning towards 'no', but let's pretend they did for the purpose of this fic, 'kay?? Otherwise the song just wouldn't WORK, you see. :)

Norah:

__

My gift is my fic (*coughcough*)

And this one's for you. :)

~*~

Satine was no stranger to blood.

She'd seen countless dancers and courtesans lost to rivers of it, murdered by drunken customers or overcome by consumption.

How many times had she removed her own delicately embroidered handkerchief from her own mouth, only to find it covered with the crimson substance?

After all, red didn't only stand for passion, love, and seduction.

No, there was a darker side of red.

There was a darker side of everything.

But to see Christian bleeding....

"Don't leave me," she pleaded in a desperate whisper from where she sat beside his hospital bed. He moaned softly in response, but showed no other sign of regaining consciousness.

_Why couldn't it have been me?_ she thought madly, silently. _Why couldn't Warner have missed his shot? Why couldn't the Duke have taken his own possession by mistake?_

It would have been fabulously ironic, and she was already going to die. There was no pretending she wasn't.

But Christian....

He was so young, so inexperienced. He deserved to see the world in its full array of colors, to experience anything and everything. Until he'd come to Paris, he'd led such a sheltered existence...

Satine always had as well, but she didn't matter.

Not as Christian mattered.

Blinking back tears, she took his lightly callused hand into her own and massaged it gently with her thumb, wondering if he could feel the caress. A shiver ran up and down her spine as she watched him, looking so cold and lifeless. From the moment he'd collapsed into a heap on the stage, a red wound immediately seeping through his shirt, Satine had felt as though she'd lost half of her soul.

_This is how Christian will be feeling, _a cruel, pessimistic voice in the back of her head sang out tauntingly. _Once consumption ruins you, he'll be all alone like this. And he won't have any hope. You'll be gone._

"No," Satine whispered numbly, crystal tears beginning to trickle down sickly pale cheeks. "No, I can't do this to him..."

But there was no tricking nature, and there was no turning back. Christian would have to experience the pain of losing her.

Unless....

Unless she lost him first.

Nervously biting her lips that were still dimly stained with faded scarlet, Satine opened her mouth and began to sing in a low, shaky whisper.

"Our love is the size of these tumors inside us, our love is the size of this hospital room...you're my hospital groom."

Shuddering, she stared despondently around the dismal room, a sigh escaping her lips. Why was a love as beautiful as theirs concealed in a place so dreary and dark? Satine longed to be serenading each other by moonlight again at the Moulin Rouge, where everything forever seemed to sparkle and shimmer with vibrant colors.

Their love truly shone there.

But not here...

Here, it may as well have been black and white.

"Put the ring on my finger, so tight it turns blue," Satine continued her song, lovingly brushing a lock of dark hair from Christian's eyes. His lips seemed to turn up slightly in a peaceful smile at the sound of her voice, and even if she was merely imagining it, Satine kept singing anyhow. 

If there was the slightest chance it would make him happy, she would do anything.

"A constant reminder I'll die in this room if you die in this room."

A muffled sob escaped the back of her throat, and Satine took a few steadying breaths. It was true; she'd die without him. But if they both lost their lives in this woeful place, perhaps they'd be reunited with nothing but eternity waiting for them....

And yet, if Christian survived, it would be torture.

They didn't deserve to be torn apart from each other.

Not with a love strong as theirs.

"Sit like a watchdog and patiently wait." The words escaped her mouth sounding more like a sigh than a song...they were lifeless and grief-ridden. "Listen for footsteps down the hallways...visit beds like they're graves."

Graves...

Could Christian die in that bed? In this room?? 

He was only twenty-four years old...Death couldn't lay her cold hands on him yet.....

Could she?

"Days go by so slowly," Satine proclaimed mournfully. "Nights go by so slowly...."

How long had she been sitting there, staring down at him filled with hope mixed with terrible desolation? It felt like years, and Satine could practically feel old age creeping upon her. Her soul seemed deadened somehow, incomplete. 

"In a hospital room," she sighed, "In a box built for two."

She studied his closed eyes, dark eyelashes contrasting against light skin. Oh, how she longed to get lost in those enticing pools of naive blue-gray again...

But his eyes remained closed.

Would they ever open again?

Thoughts of misery engulfed her, and she allowed herself to fall upon Christian's seemingly lifeless body and sob. The sobs shook her horribly, seeming to take a bit of the life she had left as she rocked back and forth. Soon, they evolved into hacking coughs, horrible coughs that burned her lungs and seemed to set her whole chest on fire. 

Desperate for air, or water, or anything to stop the pain, she let the coughs grow less and less violent until they subsided completely. Tears stinging in her eyes, she sat up weakly.

The ratty old blankets that covered Christian were now soaked with blood.

"I fight for air," she sang, her voice barely audible. The practically silent words that escaped her mouth tickled her throat unpleasantly, but she kept singing. She had to keep that tiny smile on Christian's face. "Fight for my own air...forget all the things I can do alone."

Being alone seemed impossible to fathom now. She'd never been truly close to someone until Christian, but since she'd become intoxicated with the sensation of his love for her, she couldn't even begin to stand living without him. 

It was terrible of her, and unspeakably selfish, but she couldn't help but have a tiny part of her want to be the one dying in his arms, to have him whispering reassuring words and holding her. 

Instead, it looked as though she would take on that role herself. 

She would be the one to die alone.

"I fight for a heart," she continued, gaze fixed lovingly on Christian. "I fight for a strong heart...I fight never to know this sickness you know."

Christian knew nothing of her consumption, and Satine wasn't sure she'd ever bear to tell him...the idea of his death brought her into such despair, and she couldn't cause him to feel as horrible as she did at that moment. 

But the sickness Christian had was out in the open...everyone who laid eyes on him knew at once. The sickness was love, and it could be fatal. God, it could have been. Satine wasn't sure how much her telling him she didn't love him would destroy her penniless poet, but she knew if he had done the same to her, she would have considered taking her own life.

If love was just a game, as she had proclaimed at the start of their whirlwind romance, then it was a game to be taken seriously.

A game of life and death.

Which really wasn't a game at all.

"But I know it's my own...I gave it a home."

Satine couldn't even begin to think of how empty her world would be, if she hadn't allowed herself to fall in love with Christian. True happiness would have forever remained a stranger to her, and she would have never realized that the most expensive diamond may as well be a pebble when compared to love. 

But, Satine realized with a jolt, if she'd never allowed herself to fall, Christian wouldn't be laying here in this damned hospital, clinging to his life.

"Please, Christian," she murmured, blissful memories of their time together dancing through her mind and bringing a bittersweet smile to her lips, "Don't give up strength. Don't be the one to go...you have so much to give."

Sighing morosely, she leaned close to him and sang quietly into his ear.

"Our love is the size of these tumors inside us...our love is the size of this hole in the ground where my heart's buried now."

Taking one last forlorn glance around the room, she bowed her head in a silent prayer that the Lord would spare the life of the one she loved.


End file.
